


Kids, Gingers, and Hockey, probably

by Ailelie, BoyGirlBothNoneImTheUniverse



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Hate to Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-06
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-03-10 17:24:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3298274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ailelie/pseuds/Ailelie, https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoyGirlBothNoneImTheUniverse/pseuds/BoyGirlBothNoneImTheUniverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It all started because Sidney had an inability to say no to kids.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The kid made him do it

**Author's Note:**

> so this was supposed to be written for the recent Big Bang, but my dad ended u going into the hospital and I never finished it. The idea was originally from ailelie and would not exist if she had not basically written it out.

It all started because Sidney had an inability to say no to kids. The season is still just beginning, only a few games since the preseason, and the Penguins’ Media Team has arranged for a school group to come watch their practice before their game against the Flyers. After practice, the team would then assemble for a media like scrum with the students, allowing them to ask them the questions they so desperately wanted to know. This in itself isn't unusual. They've done things along these lines before and it’s no hardship on Sidney to spend time with kids who show just how excited and happy they are to meet any one of the Penguins.

It goes surprisingly well, no lines crossed by innocent middle schoolers or not so innocent players. Sidney has just finished telling a story about his dog, Sam, when he happens to glance around the room. There in a corner, frowning and curled up, is a small boy. He doesn't move in the time Sidney watches him, constantly frowning and scowling at the floor as his classmates ran around asking different players questions. 

Sidney excuses himself from the kids, their delight not wavering in the bit as they go off to find another player. A teacher is standing on the other side of the room, watching the little boy as well.

“What’s wrong?” Sidney asks as he approaches, his hands hanging awkwardly in his pockets.

The teacher turns to him, blinking in surprise at his identity. The guy stares for a moment or two longer before turning his gaze back to the little boy. “He’s from Philadelphia. His mom just went through a divorce and she got a job offer here in Pittsburgh; she couldn't refuse. The kid is a Flyers fan, probably was hoping to see some Flyers.”

Sidney shifts uncomfortably, his impulse to keep kids happy conflicting with his dislike of the entire aforementioned team. He stays by the teacher’s side for a bit longer, not saying anything, mostly just watching the chaos of the room around them. 

Finally, he’s making his way over to the little boy, weaving and dodging around the little kids as they go from player to player. He stops in front of the little boy, fighting the urge to stick his hands back in his pockets, showing just how awkward he felt. The little boy looked up as he stopped in front of him, his brown eyes widening as he took in Sidney.

“Hey,” Sidney says simply.

The boy stares.

“Um, so, a Flyers fan, huh?”

The boy nods hesitantly, glancing around, looking like talking about the Flyers to a Penguin is the most scandalous thing he’s ever done. 

It’s the most scandalous thing Sidney has ever done.

He tries to coax the kid out of his shell, asking simple questions about the boy’s mom and if he likes school. The kid opens up eventually, towards the end of their conversation, but he never once asks Sidney anything like the other kids had. 

The school group is gathering their things up, all of them except for the little boy are clutching their notepads to their chests like a lifeline. It takes Sidney only a moment to decide what to do.

“Yeah, it’s Sidney,” he says quietly into his phone, students gathering things around him. “I need a favor.”

\---

Sidney is the only player left at the rink, standing awkwardly at the side of the room as the kids talk loudly over each other, their newly acquired lunches spread out among them. After a quick talk with the Media Team, they agreed to help keep the kids at the rink for a bit longer. Instead of leaving to eat lunch and head back to school, the kids now sat in bottled excitement as they ate their food. An organized game of knee hockey with a chosen player was quickly made into fruition, Sidney for once glad about the attention he received. He would've had to stay to see his plans through, so at least now he had an excuse. Afterwards, the kids were going to meet with the Pittsburgh beat journalists, an opportunity the journalism class wasn't about to pass up.

The knee hockey game goes without incident, screaming children something Sidney is stupidly fond of. He loves hearing their shouts of joy, their giggling bringing up his mood, his determination to make the little boy just as happy as his peers. His team is celebrating a goal when a woman walks into the room, dark red glasses hanging low, resting on the bridge of her nose. She meets his eye with a smile and a small nod.

Sidney’s heart speeds up for just a moment before he’s grinning at the kids, telling them that the next point wins it all. He puts up a good fight, how could he not, but a young girl in a blue cardigan awkwardly handles the rubber ball out of his reach before an even awkwarder bounce gets the ball past him and into the tiny net behind him.

Sidney finally stands, his knees popping lightly. He smiles down at the celebrating kids, happy to see his team wasn't too forlorn about their ‘overtime’ loss. He finds the small boy in the crowd, his brown hair mused from exertion and a hesitant smile gracing his face. Sidney approaches the boy with a smile, happy to see his spirits were lifted even just a little.

“Hey,” Sidney says as he comes to stand before the boy, smiling softly down at him.

“Hi,” the boy replies shyly, smiling back politely.

“So, I have a surprise for you,” Sidney says nonchalantly, bringing his hands behind his back and tangling his fingers together. “There’s a couple people I want you to meet.”

The boy looks surprised and uncertain, confused at why Sidney would do something like this, and what the surprise could possibly be.

“See the woman over there?” Sidney asked, nodding toward the still smiling woman. “She’s going to take you to it. Don’t worry, though, Mr. Greenwood and myself will be with you too.”

The boy hesitates, apprehension clouding his eyes, before he gives a firm nod, turning to walk toward the woman with small strides. Sidney follows after him, grinning. Mr. Greenwood, the teacher who had told Sidney about the boy, was just finishing up a conversation with the only other teacher on the trip. He nods and finally joins their small group, laying a calming hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Are you excited for your surprise, Jimmy?”

The boy, Jimmy, nodded slowly, his lips pursed as he slowly starts to understand the idea that there really was something they wanted to show him.

They stop in front of a pair of nondescript doors, painted black with the Penguins’ logo on them, and the woman, Diane, Sidney thinks, stops with her hands on the handles, tilting her head back to look at Jimmy.

“Remember Jimmy, you represent your school, so I ask that you behave accordingly,” Diane says, grinning in amusement as Jimmy just nods in confusion.

Diane finally opens the doors, allowing their small group to shuffle in.

“So, this must be the little squirt that has amazing taste?”

Jimmy’s mouth pops open, his jaw hanging as he sees the three players before him.

A grinning Claude Giroux chuckles, walking to the boy and putting his hand on the boy’s head, ruffling his hair.

“I heard from a pretty bird that you had some questions for me and my pals,” Giroux says, tilting his head to the side. “So, what do you wanna ask, bud?”

Jimmy is ushered over to the other two players, Scott Hartnell and Wayne Simmonds, both with matching grins. Jimmy is quick to start questioning them, his shock finally turning into amazed excitement. 

Sidney can practically see the stars in his eyes. For all of his starstruck behavior, Jimmy asks some surprisingly insightful questions, things his classmates had glossed over with giggled questions of a player’s girlfriends and pets. 

Diane nudges Sidney, nodding her head toward the door in a silent question.

Sidney pauses for a moment, thinking, before shaking his head softly, watching as Jimmy jumps in excitement, his nose scrunched up in delight.

Diane goes quietly and leaves Sidney and Mr. Greenwood to watch the interaction in peace.

\---

Sidney sighs as the interview is finally over, the group leaving in excited conversations as they follow the beat team. 

After a good half hour alone with the players, Jimmy had been joined by his classmates; the whole journalism class had gotten to participate in the surprise interview of the three Flyers. The interview was finally over after another half hour, the kids exchanging their pads to see what the other had written down. 

Sidney nodded briefly to Mr. Greenwood as he and the other teacher brought up the rear of their little group, watching vigilantly to make sure none of the children misbehaved. Once the group left, their excited whispers following The Beat reporters down the hallway, Sidney turns to the Flyers. Simmons and Hartnell are already gathering their things up, muttering amongst themselves. Giroux, however, is giving one last wave to an ecstatic Jimmy.

"Thanks," Sidney says as he sidles up to the ginger.

Giroux side-eyes him for a moment, his gaze searching Sidney before dismissing him. "I like kids," he finally says, turning without another word.

Sidney frowns, a small amount of frustration building in his stomach. He contemplates calling Giroux back, try and make him interact with Sidney, but ultimately Sidney decides against it. Sidney shakes his head, his lips pursing at his decision. He turns away himself, walking out the door.

He gets how Giroux feels though. Kids just have a spark in them that make Sidney want to nurse it until it turns into an inferno. He's slightly put off that he shares an opinion with Claude Giroux of all people, but he figures that even annoying gingers have to have some redeemable qualities. Sidney almost shutters at the idea of Giroux being an okay guy and vows to get back at the man for making Sidney think of him that way.

There's a game tonight, after all.


	2. Hospitals & the Media

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 8 pages of awkward

It's a month later, all thoughts on Giroux forgotten as Sidney sits in his house in frustration. The past few weeks have been bad for the Penguins, a road trip full of losses that continue to grind at Sidney's need to always work harder. He's watching some type of reality show, wondering who he could convince to smuggle him some game tape during a rare time off, when his cell going off takes him away from his musings. He debates not answering it, but decides against it on the off chance it's important.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Crosby, I need a favor."

Sidney quickly comes to the conclusion that he shouldn't have answered it.

"Giroux? How did you get this number?"

"Called Talbot, look, there's this kid," Giroux starts, pausing for a moment as he hears Sidney shift. Once it becomes apparent Sidney hasn't got anything to say, he continues. "He doesn't have much time. Used to play hockey but had to stop because of his health. Met him during a visit to a children's hospital. Imagine my surprise when the poor kid has just as poor taste."

Sidney raises his eyebrow at Giroux's tone, intrigued despite himself. "Oh?"

"Yeah. I asked him who his favorite player was and he told me Sidney Crosby. I've yet to convince him ginger is the way to go."

Sidney almost chuckles before he remembers who he's talking to. 

"Anyway, I was wondering if there might be a way you could send over some signed merch for him or something? I could take it with me on a private visit."

"Yeah," Sidney says without hesitation. He's heard hundreds of stories like this, a kid waiting to die due to twisted circumstances, one of their last wishes being to meet the person they idolize. Sidney's heard it so many times and it still feels like a knife being shoved into his rib cage after every story that’s told. "Yeah, I can do something like that."

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Quick, what's your address?"

"What?" Giroux mutters groggily through his phone, his voice a tired wisp compared to Sidney's lively one.

"I need to know your address. I'm not just gonna stand around the terminal."

There was a long pause, a shuffling sound reaching Sidney through the phone, before Giroux finally replies with, "Are you in fucking Philadelphia?"

"No," Sidney says sarcastically, "I'm in Pittsburgh International and I must insist you pick me up this instance."

Another pause before, "Are you fucking with me?"

"Give me your address asshole, it's getting crowded."

Sidney takes note of Giroux's address, muttering it to himself after he hangs up, waiting for the taxi he called. It comes before anyone recognizes him, thank God, and he gives the man the address. Sidney doesn't pay much attention to the scenery around him, instead opting to straighten his shirt and smooth out his jeans. He's wearing a Penguins hat that he signed, a personal message scrawled on the bill of the cap in silver permanent marker.

He climbs out of the taxi and pays the silent man, making sure to give him a nice tip. He checks out Giroux's complex, slightly impressed, before he heads in. Nothing of interest occurs until he's stumbling to Giroux's door. He knocks precisely, the noise cutting through the silence. When he gets no response, he huffs and knocks louder, his knuckles turning slightly red at the exertion. He grumbles, his resolve hardening as he almost pounds on the door.

"Jesus Christ, I'm coming!" Giroux shouted as he whipped the door open, startling Sidney. 

Sidney raised an eyebrow at Giroux's disgruntled appearance. An old grey t-shirt with an ugly orange Flyers logo stared back at him, low hanging gray pajama pants hanging off Giroux's hips, the bottom of them bunching down around his feet.

"You're actually here," Giroux muttered in surprise, his hand coming up to wipe at his eyes. He steps away from the door, his feet shuffling along the floor as he lets Sidney through. Sidney eyes the penthouse, trying to take in as much as he can subtly before he gets distracted.

"The fridge is in the kitchen and the couch is in front of you. I'll be up later," Giroux states with a yawn, turning away from Sidney without another word.

Sidney feels the rush of anger that comes crashing over him, his fists clenching at his sides as he grinds his teeth together. He almost shouts, his anger already boiling over, when he's suddenly struck with the memory that the Flyers are playing the Rangers that night and that he probably just woke Giroux up from his pre-game nap. All anger suddenly leaves him, guilt trickling in to take its place.

Sidney grabs his duffle bag, incredibly glad he had the foresight to at least pack another day's worth of clothing. He tosses it on the expensive looking couch, his eyes roaming the area around him. A flat screen TV meets his gaze and he shuffles over to it awkwardly. The remote was on a coffee table by the couch and he quickly turned it on and changed the channel until the NHL network was playing in the background. He flops down, toeing his shoes off onto his bag. He leans back against the couch and gets ready for the wait.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Giroux is up and about about two hours later, his ginger hair poofy and messy on the top of his head. He shuffles past Sidney, a grunt being all the acknowledgement that he receives. Sidney is left debating if he should follow Giroux into the other's kitchen when he smells the distinct smell of melting cheese.

"Crosby!" Giroux shouts suddenly, causing Sidney to jump. "If you want something to eat, get in here."

Sidney pushes himself up, curious and only slightly surprised to see a grilled cheese sandwich sitting on the counter for him. Giroux is over by the stove making himself a sandwich and completely ignores Sidney's awkward shuffle onto the bar stool in front of his plate. Sidney takes a bite and let's himself raise an eyebrow at the taste, humming as the cheese meets his tongue. It's actually quite good, something Sidney supposes he should've expected given Giroux's reputation for the aforementioned sandwich. He has half of it wolfed down when Giroux dumps the pan into his sink, turning around to face Sidney, his hip jutting out to rest against the side of the counter.

"So, this is a surprise," he states simply, taking a bite of his own sandwich as he meets Sidney's eyes.

Sidney shrugs, unabashed, and replies, "Thought I could do one better then a signed picture."

Giroux doesn't reply, just looks him up and down and then nodding at whatever he found. 

"So," Sidney says slowly, breaking the silence. "We could go tomorrow seeing as how you have a game tonight."

"Yeah," Giroux replies with a shrug, "that's fine by me." 

Sidney finishes his sandwich and deposits the plate into the sink. He stands in front of Giroux awkwardly, unsure of what he should do.

"Go back to the couch," Giroux states with a snort. "I have to get ready."

Giroux leaves after that, munching on his sandwich as he goes down the hall.

"Great," Sidney says with a sigh, heading to the couch with small prayer that he won't end up watching some type of Spanish soap opera. 

His prayers go unanswered.

Giroux leaves a little while later, a wave and a grunt is all Sidney gets as he leaves. He ends up watching the game, cheering every time the Rangers score. Sidney is slightly disgruntled when the Flyers come back in the third and force it to overtime, a fluky goal securing them two points.

Giroux comes home directly after the game, his tie loose and his collar unbuttoned. He looks pleased, a tired little smirk crossing over his face as he starts to make them a late post-game dinner. Sidney helps without being asked, sauteing sausage as Giroux boiled the noodles for the KD. There is a surprisingly comfortable silence between them, the pop and sizzle of cooking meat and the steam from the boiling pasta the only sounds in the room. The TV gives off a light buzz from the other room as Sidney gets lost in thought.

While the silence now is comfortable, the idea that Sidney is in Philadelphia is a strong discomfort on his mind. Sidney didn’t particularly like doing anything too impulsive, planning things out always seemed to work best to him. Showing up at Giroux’s house on an impulse definitely deviates from Sidney’s usual behavior and it makes him question his own motives. He pokes at the sausage with a spatula and resists the urge to hum. He keeps catching glances of Giroux out of the corner of his eyes, the ginger man kept coming back into the kitchen from the front room, constantly checking on the pasta and then heading back out to flip through the channels on his TV.

Once the food is finally finished, they both grab hearty portions and move into the front room, a re-run of Dancing With the Stars playing on the TV. Sidney’s isn’t particularly a fan, but when Giroux feels the need to critique one of the couple’s routines, Sidney can’t keep his mouth shut.

“Like you could do any better,” Sidney scoffs after swallowing. 

“See,” Giroux replies, “this isn’t about me. It’s about Stephen’s awful footwork. I haven’t seen anyone that bad since Simmer tried to do the Macarena after downing five shots in one hour.”

Sidney doesn’t even try to hold back his snort when he replies, ”You’ve obviously forgetting what exactly Russians can do. When Geno wants to go, everybody is sucked in. Before he was traded, Geno convinced Nealsy to take four shots straight before doing a handstand.”

“You’re joking,” Giroux said with a shocked laugh.

“I have never seen someone puke so fast,” Sidney said with a shake of his head. “Those two were awful back then.”

They spend the rest of the episode discussing their teammate’s inability to dance and it’s, to Sidney’s great surprise, enjoyable. Sidney was completely shocked that his sense of humor was similar to Giroux's. Eventually though, Sidney allowed Giroux to take his plate to put in the dishwasher. With a wave and an almost friendly goodbye, Giroux leaves Sidney alone in the front room. Sidney calls out a good night of his own before he realizes that Giroux never gave him any pillows or blankets. He's debating on whether to get angry over this newest development when his eye catches on the chair in the far corner of the room. A neatly folded quilt with a plush pillow sits on top of it.

"Huh," Sidney thinks with a gentle hum. He rises off the couch and goes to pick up the objects, surprised at the softness of the pillow.

He sleeps well that night.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sidney is woken up the next morning by the smell of sausage assaulting his senses. He blearily makes his way to Giroux’s kitchen while yawning. Giroux is standing at the stove muttering to himself as he flipped the sausage. A carton of eggs sits open on the counter next to him, an empty bowl accompanying it. Sidney takes it upon himself to help and heads over to help make breakfast. After cracking some eggs and whisking them in the bowl he lets Giroux take over, his bladder suddenly making itself known.

“Where’s your bathroom?”

“Down the hall and to the left,” Giroux replies absent-mindedly. 

Sidney follows his instructions easily, his mind still groggy and clouded from sleep. By the time he finishes and washes his hands, Giroux has set the table. They eat in a neutral silence, both acknowledging that any civil conversation would be lost between the two. Sidney finishes before Giroux, so he takes the time to head back to the sleep rumpled couch and grab his phone out of his bag. Sidney is alerted that he’s missed several texts and two calls. 

_Where r u_ , Flower texted around three yesterday.

_Publicity stuff_ , Sidney texts back. _Should’ve warned you. Won’t be back in town until later tonight._

gross :(, is the reply Sidney gets. He smiles slightly, before going through the rest of his text messages. He sends out some texts to the rest of the team, hoping to bring up their day a bit after their bad streak of luck. 

Sidney feels significantly guiltier when he notices that both missed calls are from his mother. He debates calling her back right away, feeling bad for not answering, but ultimately decides to call her back tomorrow, when all of his plans were finished an over with. He does, however, call the Penguins’ media team and inform them of what exactly he’s doing. There is more than likely going to be pictures posted somewhere on the internet, and Sidney would feel awful if he didn’t give anybody a heads up. 

While Sidney takes care of one or two more things, he feels the couch dip on the other end. He glances up out of the corner of his eye to see Giroux thumbing through his own phone. Their silence once again becomes a neutral presence before Giroux finally yawns and gets up off of the couch, stretching once he’s standing. 

“Get dressed,” he says, sauntering back toward his room. “We’ll leave in just a minute or two.”

Sidney watches him go before complying. 

\---

Giroux leads him through a side door after they park. The ride to the hospital had been filled with music from the radio and Sidney looking at the city around them.

A hospital director meets them, enthusiastically shaking Sidney’s hand before thanking them both. “I just know the kids are going to love this!” sh says with a smile. “Follow me so we can get started.”

The follow the women through the maze like basement, nothing interesting occurring until they finally reach a freight elevator to the ward Giroux’s team had visited. The kids are all smiles, something that warms Sidney’s heart, and they are awed at seeing not only Giroux again, but with the new addition of Sidney himself.

More than a few come up to Sidney to get a hug, something Sidney’s more than happy to do. They tell him childish stories that cause a smile to stretch across his face. 

“Stealing all my fans, huh, Crosby?” Giroux says just a few feet away, a little girl perched on his knee.

The comment drags out a surprised laugh from Sidney, a hesitant smile gracing his lips when he meets Claude’s eyes. After the initial stampede, Giroux seems to step back, allowing Sidney to be at the forefront of the children’s attention. Sidney signs things and takes pictures with the kids loosely, happy to give them anything to make their day just a bit brighter. Giroux starts talking to a nurse over in the corner, looking around at Sidney every once in a while to see if he's done. Once the kids are thoroughly satisfied, Giroux and the nurse lead the way to the reason for Sidney’s visit.

Jake is supposedly a teenager, but he looks smaller than that, from what Sidney can glance at through the door’s small window. He’s all skin and bones, Sidney thinks sadly, as he watches the boy smile brightly at a women in the room, his mother, Sidney guesses. 

Giroux pushes the door open, careful to keep Sidney from the boy’s view, and says, “Hey, Jake! How have you been?”

“Claude!” Jake replies in delighted surprise. “I’ve been great! You guys are already back to visit?”

“Actually,” Giroux replies mischievously, “remember how you asked for Crosby’s autograph?”

“Yeah?” Jake asks excitedly, pushing himself up into a sitting position. 

“Well,” Giroux says, “I did you one better.”

He motions for Sidney and when he walks in, Jake lets out a surprised gasp.

“Sidney Crosby!” he yelps. “You got Sidney Crosby to visit me!?”

“I told you I was the best,” Giroux says in fake arrogance. 

Sidney smiles at Jake immediately prattles on about getting to meet him. The women, Jake’s mother, is standing silently in the corner, smiling sadly at her son. Sidney nods at her in silent acknowledgment before he returns his attention to Jake.

“I have something for you,” Sidney says casually.

“Really?”

“Yep,” Sidney replies as he takes the autographed hat off of his head. He gently puts it onto Jake’s own, grinning as Jake reaches up to touch it.

“This is mine?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Wow!” Jake takes it off, running his hand over the silver signature, before placing it back on his head. “Thanks so much!”

“I also have one other thing,” Sidney says. He looks at Giroux and grabs the duffle bag Giroux had been lugging around. He unzips it and pulls out a Penguins’ jersey, his name and number on the back. “This is also for you.”

Jake restrains himself from making grabby hands, Sidney notices, but the jersey is gently snatched from his grasp, Jake’s mouth wide in awe at the message on the front of the jersey. 

You’re my favorite player -- Sid, it reads.

“Oh gosh,” Jake whispers, tearing up. 

Sidney isn’t one to be okay around crying, but watching Jake’s tears of joy, Sidney finds he doesn’t mind.

A hand is out on his shoulder and Sidney turns to see Jake’s mother smiling at him softly. 

“Thanks you for this,” she whispers.

“It’s really no problem,” Sidney whispers back, turning his attention back to a joyful Jake. “Really, it was my pleasure.”

\---

“So, thanks, I guess,” Giroux says, taking a bite of his sandwich.

Parting with Jake was a sad affair, the sick teenager wiping away tears so he could take a decent photo with his idol. After heading back to Giroux’s to grab Sidney’s bag, the two hockey players had headed to lunch.

“It wasn’t any trouble,” Sidney says after he finishes chewing, shrugging his shoulders.

Giroux hums in reply, his focus back in his meal, when Sidney feels his phone vibrate.

A text from Flower pops up onto his phone. _Awful publicity?????_ , it reads. 

A link is attached at the end, so Sidney clicks on it as he takes a sip of his water. It’s an article about Giroux’s and his visit to the hospital. There’s some grainy cell phone pictures along with the article, as well as a screen shot of a post Jake’s mom made on Twitter. 

[](http://s1311.photobucket.com/user/WellPuckYouToo/media/synthia_zpse486b20e.png.html)

The instagram link goes straight to the picture Jake’s mom had taken of Sidney and Giroux standing next to her son. 

“That was fast,” he mumbles.

“Hm?”

Sidney glances up at Giroux before he hands his phone over. “Our visit is going viral. You know, we’ll be asked about this.”

Giroux takes a look before shrugging himself and handing back Sidney’s phone. “Did you expect anything else, though?”

Sidney inclines his head, silently agreeing, before he goes back to his lunch.

Later on that day, as Sidney waits patiently for his plane to take off, he stares unseeingly out of the window. Spending time with Giroux had been surprisingly easy, once hockey had been taken out of the situation. Once the aggression of the game was removed, Sidney had been surprised to find that they had more than a few things in common. Sidney bit his lip and decided not to think about it anymore.

\---

Sidney’s asked about the visit during the media scrum just a day later.

“Giroux told me about the kids, about Jake, and I had the time,” he replies awkwardly, his face a blotchy red. “We can be rivals and still be friendly.”

Sidney moves onto the next question but he’s well aware that he was singing a very different tune not too long ago. He ignores the mysterious feeling, however. This would probably be the end of any civil interaction he had with Giroux for a long time anyway.


	3. Alicia is me in kid form

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> short so short wow look how short

Sidney is slightly tired, but mostly content as he autographs things. He doesn’t fight the awkward feeling of shoving his hands in his pockets during pictures, but in general the signing is going alright. Project Bundle-Up was for a good cause, so Sidney didn’t mind spending time with people who might not usually get the chance to have good things happen in their lives. 

A little girl slides up in front of him and Sidney smiles when she shyly smiles back at him and thrusts a two pieces of paper in front of him. The one on top has two stick figures, one drawn in black while the other is in orange. They are both holding too long hockey sticks and there seems to be a cross-hatched trapezoid covering a black disc to the side. At the bottom of the page, ‘CLAUDE GIROUX’ is written in large, childlike writing. When Sidney pushes the picture aside, there is a second one underneath, only this one has the two stick figures holding up what could only be the Stanley Cup.

[](http://s1311.photobucket.com/user/WellPuckYouToo/media/mms_picture2_zpsffa2a7e6.jpg.html)

“Do you want me to sign these?” he asks hesitantly, taking in the two drawings.

“No,” the little girl replies shyly. “They’re presents. This one goes to you and the other goes to Mr. Giroux. My daddy helped me with the spelling. My best friend lives far away too, ‘cuz her mom got a new job. Can you give it to him?”

Sidney blinks, slightly shocked, before Beau’s muffled chuckle breaks him out of it. “Oh! Um, of course I can. I bet he’ll love it.”

“Thanks so much, Mr. Crosby!” the little girl says, beaming up at him.

“Best friend?” Beau asks _sotto voce_ , his grin wide on his face. 

Sidney carefully folds the pictures in half, gently putting them into his jacket pocket. If the girl’s parents were hockey fans, it’s more than likely that she saw coverage of Sidney’s ill-thought-out trip to Philadelphia. It was certainly odd to be thought of as friends with Giroux, but not completely imaginable.

Sidney does his best to stay smiling at the next kid in line and continue ignoring Beau. When he’s done for the day, Beau flags him down with a wave. 

“Check this out,” he says handing his phone to Sidney.

The little girl is on the screen, her dad standing next to her with a hand on her shoulder. Pens TV stopped the girl and talked with her.

“I’m Alicia,” she replies, holding her drawings up. “And I drew pictures for Mr. Crosby and Mr. Giroux.” The rest of the interview is not even a minute, just Alicia explaining what the pictures were of.

“She’s cute,” Beau laughs, taking his phone back once the video is done.

“Yeah,” Sidney mutters in reply. “Cute.”

It’s later in the week, Sidney sitting on his couch at home, when he gets a text from Giroux. 

_Where’s my drawing?_ , he asks.

Sidney pauses for a moment before replying, _I’ll mail it to you_. 

Sidney mails it the next day, having asked Giroux to tell him his address once more. 

The following week has complete silence between them, and Sindey has almost forgotten about it when once again he gets a text from Giroux, only this time he’s getting dressed after practice and not sitting on his couch.

The text had been sent over thirty minutes ago, and showed the picture hanging up in Giroux’s fridge along with the caption, _It’s a beaut_. 

Sidney shakes his head fondly and is about to put his phone down when Geno sits down next to him.

“Sid!” he says happily. “You pony official!”

“Pony what?” Sid frowns, confused.

Geno hands Sidney his iPad, the _My Little Blackhawk_ page pulled up. There’s a recreation of Alicia’s picture, only this time, their pony forms, or in Giroux’s case -- Unicorn, are lifting the Stanley Cup.

Giroux as a unicorn, Sidney comes to find, is an awful plaid mess, just like the real person.

“So, kind of weird, yes?”

“Why?” Sidney asks absent-mindedly, using his phone to snap a picture of the iPad on his phone. He sends it to Giroux and looks up to look at Geno. 

“Because Giroux,” Geno says, like the answer is obvious. He takes the iPad away from Sidney as he fumbles with his phone. “Who sending picture to?”

“No one,” Sidney replies, opening the reply Giroux sent. All it says is, _Unicorn > Pony_, and it causes Sidney to snort and roll his eyes. “It’s nothing; hey, we still on for that movie?”

Sidney puts his phone away and forgets all about the incident, his focus on his conversation with Geno.

\---

They don’t text often, only contacting each other when their supposed friendship gets brought up. Sidney stays focused on his game, satisfied when their losing streak ends and they start making their way to the top of their division. The guys are staying healthy and injury free, so Sidney’s mood has improved. Which is probably why the Penguins’ media team approached him after a win.

“It’s part of a good sportsmanship program,” Jimmy says, describing the coordinate event. “They think the ‘rivals and friends’ message you’re sending out with Claude Giroux is perfect for a new series of commercials they’re designing. They want to include a variety of sports, but since you were the inspiration, they’d like you to be the first. All the funds raised will be split between the campaign and the National Bullying Prevention Center.”

Sidney considers saying no because any more time spent with Giroux might make him sick, but he’s not going to be petty when there's a good cause involved. 

“Sure,” he agrees. “It sounds great.”

The commercial was different from Sidney’s usual experience, reminding him more of a hockey documentary than anything. He and Giroux were brought to a small arena and introduced to two rival teams, the children barely up to Sidney’s hip, and almost not even that. The film crew mingled around seamlessly and they became so unobtrusive, Sidney found himself forgetting they were even there. As the game progressed, Sidney brought out the notepad and pen he’d brought and started to take down notes.

“Seriously,” Giroux asked, leaning over Sidney’s shoulder to look at his notes. “Number 10 Blue, stick? 94 Green, defense? You certainly have a way with words, don’t you, Crosby?”

Siney rolled his eyes and bumped Giroux with his shoulder, shoving him away. “I know what they mean,” he replies simply. On the ice, the blue’s team captain tried to pass the puck, but his left wing wasn’t in position, allowing the puck to bounce off the board and into the green team’s possession.

“13 Blue needs to keep their head up,” Giroux says nonchalantly, his eyes focused on the game. 

“Take your own notes,” Sidney says with a huff, jotting down ‘#13 Blue, eyes’ anyway. 

The rest of the game passed in the same manner, Sidney taking notes and Giroux occasionally throwing out his own observations. When a wild goal made its way to the back of the Green team’s goal just before an intermission, they argued over who had made the greatest error. Giroux argued that the blue team should be praised for the goal, while Sidney argues they should be commended on their effort, but that the puck only went in with a lucky bounce. 

“It was all luck!” Sidney says with a huff, twisting in his seat to glare at Giroux. Giroux smirks and Sidney suddenly wishes he could slap it off. Giroux says nothing, only pointing at Sidney’s notes and shaking his head with a grin, refusing to back down.

As Sidney later learns, after both of them have talked to the kids after the game, that moment caught in between them, Sidney gesturing with his pen and Claude leaned in close, grinning, would be the photo that hit Twitter with the hashtag #bromance and a question mark.

It’s stupid, Sidney tells himself, ignoring the texts from Flower. It’s stupid, he thinks as he continues to go on with his life, except- it’s not stupid. Sidney continues to spend more time with Giroux, more time listening and just not assuming, and Sidney finds that he can no longer hate him. Sidney finds he’s slowly coming to terms with the fact that he enjoys Giroux’s company. 

It’s stupid until it isn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is so short i'm sorry it's been done for a day and a half and i was gonna post it but im like no to short but i couldnt find a better place to stop so here we go
> 
> also My Little Blackhawk is a real thing (if u didnt already know) and it's wonderful as fuck. u should go check it out n tumblr.


	4. we never do find out what he needed help with

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _You could come over, maybe watch a movie_ , Sidney sends before he can think about it.
> 
> When Claude replies, _Sure, give me your address_ , he figures there wasn’t anything to think about anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sdlkfjdgs updated! I'm going on my senior trip so I don't know how much I'll be able to write this time around, but hey, at least there was an update?

Playing in Philly is always an experience. Whether it’s good or bad depends on whether they won and on whether anyone bled. They get into Philly a day early, and Sidney let’s everyone know that he needs to pick up some signed merchandise from Giroux for some kids in Pittsburgh, and then does just that. 

Sidney is hanging out with Giroux, sprawled out on Giroux’s couch and complaining about nothing and everything, when there’s a knock on the door. The person doesn’t wait before they barge in, the door making a thumping sound when they slam it closed. 

“G!” a male voice shouts. “I need advice!”

Giroux pops his head out from the kitchen, a spatula still in his grip. “Caelan?”

“I don’t know what to do, G! I just- woah okay, did you know there’s a wild Crosby on your couch?” Sidney almost laughs because a soon as the boy says it, his face goes red from embarrassment. “I mean, uh, hi? I’m Caelan. One of Danny Brière’s sons?”

Sidney smiles but doesn’t get to reply, Giroux’s comment cutting him off. “No need for your life story, Caelan.” Giroux ruffles the forlorn boy’s hair, chuckling when his hand is swatted away. “Crosby, take over for me, would you?” Giroux asks, handing Sidney his spatula. He starts to lead Caelan back towards his bedroom before he pauses and says,”And if you burn the grilled cheeses, I’ll hurt you.”

Sidney scoffs. He gets up anyway, stretching as he goes, and heads into the kitchen. The sandwiches are finished quickly and he takes his with him, leaving Giroux’s in the pan. He settles back on the couch and flips on the TV. Brière’s son and Giroux are gone for a while, Sidney able to watch the entire first period of a game between the Blackhawks and the Stars, before they emerge from down the hall, Caelan now smiling, though his face is still slightly red from his panic earlier.

“You let my sandwich get cold, Crosby!” Giroux shouts from his kitchen.

“Should’ve been there when it was done,” Sidney replies nonchalantly, patting his stomach and winking at Caelan, who was grinning in the entryway of the kitchen. 

“Stupid,” was all Sidney heard from Giroux’s mutterings but by the way Caelan looked both scandalized and amused, Giroux probably had a few more words than just that for him. Sidney chuckles to himself and lets a soft smile flutter across his face.

Eventually, Claude comes out of the kitchen, two plates in hand. He gives one to Caelan and keep the other for himself, dropping down next to Sidney. He elbows him for the remote, which Sidney gives back with an eye roll, but doesn’t change the channel. Caelan takes the armchair, watching both them and the game as they eat in a comfortable silence. They stay like this until the game ends with a Blackhawk’s win, and Caelan is blinking sleepily.

“Hey, G, can you drive me home? I took SEPTA on the way here, but I’m too tired to deal with it,” Caelan asks, yawning.

“Really, Caelan?” Claude asks in disapproval. “You know my car is in the shop.”

“Shit,” Caelan curses, sleep still on the edge of his voice.

“Language,” Claude replies quickly.

“How am I supposed to get home?” Caelan asks, finally sitting up in the chair.

Sidney doesn’t hesitate to say, “I can take you.”

“What?” Claude and Caelan reply at the same time.

“I mean, I need to head back to the hotel anyway. Why not just catch a ride with me?” Sidney mutters, feeling awkward as he fights back a blush.

“Really?” Caelan asks skeptically, standing slowly.

“Yeah,” Sidney replies, a sheepish smile on his face.

“Cool, thanks! I’m gonna run to the bathroom!” Caelan grins, going down the hall towards Claude’s bathroom.

“Hey, thanks for this,” Claude says, bumping his shoulder against Sidney’s.

“It’s no issue, really,” Sidney insists.

“Still, thanks Sid,” Claude says, pushing himself up and off the couch. “You better call the cab while I go get that merch I promised.”

Sidney is shocked when he felt his heart jump at the surprised of Claude using his first name. Sidney blinks after the ginger, finally realizing that he had also been addressing him by his first name. 

He forces himself to call himself and Caelan a ride, no longer lingering on his mixed feelings. The ride from Claude’s place to Briere’s is a long one, it being more than a thirty minute drive. Caelan sits quietly to the left of him at first, not saying anything. Around five minute into their ride, however, he turns to Sidney and quirks his head to the side.

“So, G mentioned you guys were okay now.”

“Um,” Sidney hums, unsure. “I suppose so, yeah.”

“Oh,” Caelan says, leaving an awkward pause. “Okay.”

Sidney hasn’t felt this awkward before in his entire life.

“So,” Sidney starts, hoping to break the tension, “do you play hockey?”

That gets the kid talking. He brightens too, the cautious looks from before are all but erased from Caelan’s face as he gushes about not only his playing, but his brother’s hockey skills as well. The gushing takes a quick turn from their hockey, to Caelan’s and the other boys’ love of Claude. Sidney has never heard this much about Claude before, even from the man itself. It’s interesting to listen to Caelan quickly go through some of his favorite hockey related Claude stories, his mouth moving a mile a minute. They reach the Briere residence in forty-five minutes, though it seems like a much shorter time. Caelan hops out, thanking Sidney.

“I told you, it was no trouble.”

“Still, thanks. I really needed to talk with G and I hadn’t even thought about how I was going to get back.”

Caelan departs there, waving as he jogs up to his front door. Sidney stares after him for a moment, a small smile etched onto his face, before he gives the driver the hotel address. He leans back and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. His life was getting confusing, and yet, when a conjured image of a smirking Claude came to his head, he found himself smiling, his will to fake hatred no longer there.

\---

Sidney is texting Claude, their conversation a mismatch of chirping about the game later that night and why plaid either was (Claude) or was not (Sidney) a good idea, when Claude mentions that the Philly guys are all going somewhere after their practice.

_You’re not going?_ , Sidney asks.

_I kind of just want to stay in_ , is Claud’s reply. 

_You could come over, maybe watch a movie_ , Sidney sends before he can think about it.

When Claude replies, _Sure, give me your address_ , he figures there wasn’t anything to think about anyway. 

When Claude gets there, rumpled plaid shirt and all, Sidney lets him in with an eye roll and a brief elbow nudge. He brings out gatorade and plops down on the couch next to Claude, the movie Inception already in and ready to play. It’s good, Sidney knows it is, that’s why he owns it, but if you’re not paying attention, it can get boring quickly. Which is why when Sidney suddenly feels Claude fully slump against him, his head lulling next to Sidney’s shoulder, he just let’s out an airy laugh and keeps on watching the movie. Once it’s over, however, Sidney stands quickly, causing Claude to fall all the way down on to the couch. 

He groans, which makes Sidney chuckle, and asks, “Why?”

“Come on,” Sidney says in amusement, ”get up. I have a spare room you can crash in. I’ll drive us both to the rink.”

Claude groans again, mumbling something, but he picks himself up nonetheless, glaring halfheartedly at Sidney and shuffling after him. Once he’s securely passed out in Sidney’s guest room, Sidney heads to his own room, a small yawn escaping his lips. 

When they finally wake up and have themselves ready, Sidney drives them both to the rink. Claude keeps messing with his radio and it takes everything Sidney has not to slap his hand away from the button. 

“Stop,” he says instead, checking to see if the light has turned green yet.

“You stop,” is Claude’s eloquent reply, changing the station once again, this time from a pop one to a country one.

They reach the rink and get out of the car, their bickering interrupted with laughs and shoves. Claude is trying to convince Sidney of the superiority of american cheese to swiss when he sees a couple of his teammates. They spot them, all of their eyebrows raised in question. Claude waves them off and tells them he’ll be there in a second. He throws his arm over Sidney’s shoulder and, as seriously as he can, mutters to Sidney about how grilled cheese is far superior to peanut butter and jelly. Sidney can’t help but laugh, shrugging him off and pushing him toward his waiting teammates.

“Get away from me,” he says, laughing.

“Yeah, yeah,” Claude says. “See you later.”

The Penguins lose, an awful 5-2 game where no one was clicking. The locker room is silent afterwards, just a few guys mumbling as he takes off his gear. His phone is next to him and it makes him jump when it starts to vibrate. He considers letting it go, but the silence is starting to become suffocating. He picks his phone up and unlocks it and is surprised to see a text from Claude.

The picture is from before the game, Claude's arm around Sidney's shoulder, their grins bright. The caption below it is screenshotted from Twitter with the hashtag #Romeo&Juliet. The person talks about their forbidden bromance and it makes Sidney roll his eyes. He huffs and chuckles when he gets to Claude's message.

_I'm Romeo._

_You are not_ , Sidney insists.

(From what Sidney sees in the following weeks, everyone thinks Claude is Romeo. It sucks.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuckyoucanada on tumblr and ailelie is well, ailelie on tumblr lol


	5. You make me happy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sid has no idea when or how he lost control of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dear god where am i
> 
> the last chapter to be uploaded to this story was written during my high school sneior year. i am now a sophmore in college. where did i go  
> why did it take me so long.  
> im so tired

When summer sees them both sans Cup, Sid is so distracted with his sulking, he accidentally invites Giroux up to train. Sidney is mortified that he even asked and is questioning his very being when, to his surprise, Claude says yes. Granted, he does it in the most obnoxious way possible, but Sidney has become accustomed to most of Claude’s faults. 

[](http://s1311.photobucket.com/user/WellPuckYouToo/media/phone_zpsk1kvlkpl.png.html)

Claude comes to him on Wednesday and it suddenly feels—different. They stay together. Train together. Bicker over the benefits of PBJ vs. Grilled Cheese. Watch movies. Sid's done this with plenty of friends before. However, it’s never felt like this with any of them. He’s never laughed himself sick when his companion tells a joke. He’s never felt his heart pick up when one of his friends smiled a 100-watt grin at him. It's never been a thing before. 

They’ve been training together for two weeks when they’re both contacted to do a media thing. Their #bromance has grown even more popular, pictures of their time training together always being shared on the internet. Because of their publicity, the CWHL reaches out to them with the idea that they each coach a team of kids through a game to raise money for the CWHL. 

“Don’t let that mangy penguin beat you, ladies!” Sidney hears Claude yell for the other bench.

“Orange is an ugly color!” one of the girls on his bench yells back in response.

Claude lets out an affronted sound, fake outrage lacing his voice, and Sidney laughs and sends the girl out to take her turn on the ice. 

“My players know what they’re talking about,” Sidney says with a grin.

Claude sends him a look before putting his attention back on the game.

Sidney’s team wins. He’s unashamed to admit how smug he is about the win and how proud he is of his team’s ability to chirp his ginger rival. 

He’s congratulating them on the victory when he hears a war cry behind him and is suddenly thrown off balance by the kids suddenly clutching his leg. 

“Down with him!” one of the girl’s shouts, tugging on his pant legs.

It’s not long before the combined force of a girl’s peewee hockey team forces him to the ice.

He’s doing his best to old in his laughter. Instead conveying fake shock and terror. When he spies Claude smirking at him. 

Sid smirks back and then turns to his girls, his eyes wide in defeat. “I’m down ladies! Avenge me!”

Sarah, the girl who had chirped Claude earlier, caught on first. With a delighted glint in her eyes, she charges for Claude, taking him by surprise and causing him to topple. Sarah’s team follows after her, happy cries filling the rink as each team went after the other team’s coach.

Hours later, when both Sid and Claude are preparing dinner, Claude let’s out a soft laugh.

“What?” Sidney asks curiously.

Claude looks at him for only a moment before shaking his head. “Nothing. I just really like kids.”

Sidney tilts his head in consideration before shaking his head and giving Claude a small smile. “Yeah, same.”

They’re silent once more and Sid feels his chest pull tight as he glances over to a softly humming Claude. He’s smiling softly as he cuts up a carrot, lost in thought. Sidney watches him until he feels like his chest might burst before he looks away, laying his focus on the potatoes before him.

He’s left alone with his thoughts after dinner. Claude is on the other side of the couch, his soft snores barely audible. His hair is mused and he looks handsome and untroubled.

It makes Sid realize how uncomfortably aware of Claude he is. How not only his chest tightens, but how his stomach has started to tighten with desire when Claude workouts. When Claude laughs. When Claude does anything that only he would do. 

Sidney is uncomfortably aware of how far gone he is becoming and he’s conflicted because he doesn’t know what to do with that. 

Claude leaves a week later. There are other places to train, other obligations to fill, other friends to meet up with, so they part ways with a lingering hug and a goodbye. Sidney watches him go, a promise to text later between them, and tries to figure out what the hell he thinks he’s doing. He hasn’t behaved this way since Jack, and he had the excuse that Jack was at least his best friend. Claude is just his partner in an unintended #Romeo&Juliet #bromance.

Sidney doesn’t know what to do.

\---

The texts pick back up during the summer and continue into the fall. 

They talk about everything--analyzing the Western conference, trading movie recs, updating Sid on the Briere kids, sending photos of their game day sandwiches because they can. It's stupid and silly, but Sid finds himself feeling unsettled if he doesn't exchange at least a couple texts with Claude each day. 

The Pens are flying out to Minnesota when Flower suddenly confronts him on it. 

“You know,” he says, casually not looking up from his phone, “you’ve been texting someone a lot.”

“Mhm,” Sid hums in reply, putting the majority of his focus on crafting a reply to Claude. 

Flower glances up and the movement catches Sid’s eyes. They stare at one and other for a second, Flower’s gaze searching for something.

“You’ve been happier recently,” he finally says.

Sid knows he has. He knows he smiles when he gets Claude’s texts and he knows that his first thoughts in the morning are of the ginger man. Sid’s aware of his own downward spiral, he just doesn’t know what to do about it. He’s not a robot and he has already admitted to himself that’s he’s attracted to Claude both physically and emotionally. He just… doesn’t know how to tell Claude—doesn’t even know if he wants to tell the other man. Sid finds himself unwilling to upset the weird balance the two of them had reached. 

So, in reply to Flower’s unasked question, he simply replies, “Yeah,” and then moves the conversation to video games. He is stupidly relieved when Flower doesn’t call him on the conversation change.

\---

They lose to the Panthers and he’s angrily sending anti-Panther memes back and forth with Claude when his phone suddenly rings in his hand, the screen telling him Claude is calling.

Sid stares at it for so long that he almost misses the call. He finally picks up and cautiously asks, “Yes?”

“What do you have in common with the Florida Panthers?”

Sidney stays silent.

“Come on, think.”

Sidney sighs and says, “I don’t know, what do I have in common with the Florida Panthers?”

“Both of you will be watching the Flyers win the Stanley cup from home!”

It’s such a stupid, ill-timed joke that Sidney chokes before laughing. It’s not even that funny, actually more insulting then anything, but he can almost see Claude’s wicked smile at his own joke and he doesn’t fight the warmth that spreads through him. 

They continue to talk and chirp and they’ve been on the phone for an hour when Sidney slips and says, “You make me happy.”

Sidney freezes at his words and feels his heart stop when only silence meets his comment. He takes a shaky breath in the silence, suddenly sweating, when Claude breaks the silence. 

“I’m glad,” he says in a soft tone, “that I make you happy.”

Sid is shocked at how fast his heart speeds up and he fears he may have a heart attack when Claude continues with, “I want to see you.”

The rest of the conversation is softly spoken, astonishment filling Sid’s head. They compare schedules and find a day they can be together, just them with no other obligations. Sid feels himself grow nervous after they’ve both hung up. Sid hasn't felt this nervous since...ever. He wants to grab Claude by the shoulders and shake him and ask, "Why do you matter so much? I despised you!" He wants to grab Claude by the shoulders and pull him in, press their mouths together, lick around his tongue, push his fingers through that stupid ginger hair.

Sid has no idea when or how he lost control of his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ehhhh look who pulled through you doubting fuckers hahAHAHA
> 
> still fuckyoucanada on tumblr because i have no respect for myself
> 
> 6 more paragraphs of outline and this story will be done. so, basically, one more chapter.


	6. they talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is it
> 
> the last chapter
> 
> a large portion of this chapter is taken directly from Ailelie because it was perfect and didn't need me messing with their perfection
> 
> i hope you enjoy

Sidney is sitting on his couch, watching Buffalo pulling a slight lead over the Oilers, when he gets a text from Claude.

im on my way, stares back at him from his screen.

Sidney had been feeling vaguely nervous all day, his gaze constantly looking toward the wall clock, but with the text of confirmation for Claude’s impending arrival, Sid’s anxiety skyrockets and he suddenly finds himself feeling incredibly nauseous. 

He’s been preparing for their impending meeting for over two weeks, yet he finds himself struggling with what to do with himself. His home is clean, his nervous fidgeting leading to him cleaning his home rather vigorously. 

He turns the TV off, rubbing his sweaty palms along his jean clad legs. He swallows before trying to steel himself. He’d made up his mind pretty early that he was going to be direct with Claude. If their talk somehow goes wrong, somehow screws everything up, then it will just have to go back to normal. No more ‘star-crossed #bromance’. No more texts for no reason other than they wanted to talk to each other. No more being close with someone who makes his chest tight with happiness. 

(Sidney doesn’t like to think about normal.)

Normal is what they will go back to and that’s fine. They don’t see each other that often anyway, Sid thinks. He’ll learn to survive.

There’s suddenly a knock on his side door and when he gets up and opens it, there Claude is, a dark beanie covering his bright orange hair. Sid lets him in quietly, suddenly unable to say anything. Claude comes in without response and they both instinctively head to the kitchen. Claude immediately goes to the fridge and grabs them both a bottle of Gatorade and it suddenly hits him that maybe they’re far past ever going back to normal.

Claude hands him his drink and then they are suddenly surrounded by a stifling silence that Sid finds choking. 

He blames this when he finds himself blurting out, “I like you.” Sid pauses afterwards, frowning. “You know, like, like-like, not-“ Sid cuts himself off because, God, did he just say like-like? He chances a glance at Claude and is surprised to see Claude smiling at him. He doesn’t look like he’s mocking Sid either, no, he looks like he’s just seen something that made his day.

Claude continues to give him a radiant smile as he replies, “Good.”

Then suddenly Claude is so close, his fingers slide through the curls that brush Sid's neck and his mouth is just there, burning hot against Sid’s. His breath is warm and moist against Sid's lips and chin as he pulls away. His nose slides against Sid's and he asks, "What are we doing?" 

Sidney has no answer for him so he nudges Claude slightly and pulls him into a softer kiss.

"Are you sure?" Claude asks once they separate themselves. Sid looks into his eyes and studies his face before he pulls back and, glaring at him, pulls him into a living room. Claude falls onto the sofa when Sid pushes at him and Sid follows him down, mouths attaching, hands exploring, and this is more than he'd ever expected. He'd expected Claude to run.

They don't have sex that first day. Both have games coming up and neither is willing to risk how it may or may not affect them. They do make out on the sofa, first with urgency, but then after a brief 'no' to sex, lazily. Sid finds a movie neither of them have seen on tv and they make fun of it together. It’s nice being curled with someone on the sofa, laughing together, kissing through commercial breaks. This feels like a beginning. It feels worth the hassle and effort.

Sid finds himself threading his fingers through Claude's and raising their hands to kiss Claude's knuckles. When Claude gives Sid a questioning look, Sid says, "We'll make this work.”

Claude’s gaze softens and he says, “Of course,” like there’s no question at all.

The next day, Sid takes Claude to an after school hockey program. They don't hold hands. They don't come out. They don’t do anything they hadn’t been doing for the past year, and yet Sid can feel how much he’s brightened.   
Some of his teammates send him captions from Twitter, posts from people talking about their ‘#bromance’.   
It makes Sid smile.

Sid later tells the beats it's all about the kids. That their comradery formed because of their common passion. 

He tells his sister he's found someone. 

Claude says much the same when he’s asked. It is all about the kids and showing them that just because you're rivals, doesn't mean you can't be friends. And then he texts Sid about his mouth and how he would use it and where and Sid really doesn't need those kinds of images right after a practice. Flower nods to his phone and says he doesn't know who it is, but they're clearly important to Sid, so he's glad that Sid is happy. Sid grins, because amazing and unexpectedly, he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuckyoucanada on tumblr
> 
> this is a large load off of my conscious let me tell you

**Author's Note:**

> Ch 1 + Ch 2 are both comleted, the whoel story is plotted out, i just need to get off of my ass and write it.


End file.
